She was Janice, our Senior VP of Marketing. Her high cherry cheekbones and charming Tennessee accent could bring charging wild boar to a screeching halt and make them roll over for a submissive belly rub. Her voice dripped with syrup. But she had a problem remembering all our names. I guess she could be forgiven. There were around 25 of us in the hospital’s marketing and public relations department, and like most VPs, Janice didn’t leave her tower and mix with the hoi polloi very often.

During a strategic department lunch meeting where Janice was honoring staff who had recently executed the Super 5K Family Day—a major 5K run around Jacksonville’s AllTel Stadium, site of Super Bowl XXXIX—she kept acknowledging Greg’s outstanding event leadership and organizational skills. Greg was a friend and colleague on the Web team, and while immensely talented and deserving of kudos for his Web work, he had nothing to do with running the Super 5K Family Day. That was all me, and I had worked for months to pull off the big event as part of the Super Bowl festivities. Admittedly, I was a tad offended. But I could understand why she confused us: we’re about the same height (though Greg bests me by about in inch); we’re about the same age; and we each have hair, a face and the requisite number of appendages.

Janice stood in front of the dim, crowded conference room like a Southern Belle beauty queen eloquently singing high praises to Greg while we all chomped on garden salad and lemon basil chicken. Weird thing was that she was looking at me the whole time. Greg inconspicuously looked across the room at me and raised an eyebrow. I discreetly shrugged back at him. Janice went on and on about how Greg did this and that “with such poise and professionalism.” She was really laying it on thick, and her accent gave her speech tons more gravitas.

Others were now looking at me wondering when the unfortunate gaffe would stop. I simply absorbed Janice’s misdirected praise and decided to let her finish without correcting her. When she did finally finish, there was light applause. With her head aloft in proud Southern dignity, she retreated to the back of the room to make a plate of food while someone else took the stage to deliver the next item on the meeting agenda.

We all let the moment pass. What did it matter that she had mixed up my name with Greg’s? VPs were allowed such minor transgressions, weren’t they? Innocent mistake, and the awkwardness that hung about the room would soon dissipate. Just let it go, I thought.

I had already forgotten the matter as I shoveled a massive bite of salad into my mouth, totally engrossed in the next speaker’s presentation. The room was dark to accommodate some projected PowerPoint slides. Suddenly, I sensed a presence behind me and to my left. I felt warm, gentle breath in my ear, then heard a sultry, seductive Southern whisper say, “I know who you are!” Was it an angel? A fairy? A goddess?

Startled, I turned my head to the left and was immediately nose to nose with Janice, who was smiling at me. I froze. Was she going to … kiss me? You couldn’t have slipped a sheet of paper between her face and mine. We were that close. I had no idea what to do, which meant I couldn’t even blink.

“I know who you are,” she whispered again, bathing me in her sweet maple vapor, which could have lit, then melted, a candle. “You’re Garrett Hhhhhhaaaalllll.” I squinted and felt my hair ripple slightly in her syrupy breeze. There was something powerful and paralyzing in her gaze, which was holding me in agony. A deer caught in headlights.

I swallowed. “Oh, um, yes, I know you know,” I whispered back, wondering if I should pull away before she could strike me with that kiss, if that was even her intention, which I doubted it was. I calculated that she would never do such a thing in public, being a VP and all. We stayed that way for several beats, looking deep into each other’s soul. I began to sweat.

“I am so ver-uh, ver-uh sorry,” she whispered. Her eyelashes fluttered, not from allure but maybe from shame? Mercifully, after another tense few moments, she backed away and sipped her sweet tea, then re-confirmed her assessment. “Yes, you’re Garrett Hall.”